The AT ATeam 3: The End?
by Emily N. Daniel
Summary: A year has passed since the guys formed The AT ATeam, but now they feel as unappreciated as they did as the band Admiral Twin. With a rift becoming ever wider amongst the members, is this the end of the AT ATeam as we know it? Will they stay the course?


The AT A-Team: The End? 

By Emily N. Daniel

A chilly air blew through the alley, making the autumn leaves rustle as they slid upon the cold, concrete ground. The elderly woman simply wanted to get to the bank before it closed and she knew cutting through the alley would be the shortest way. The shadows created by the late afternoon sun cast eerie, dark images upon the two brick walls enclosing the narrow alleyway. The elderly woman looked around nervously as she continued on, her footsteps echoing loudly. For a second, she wondered if she had remembered her transaction book. As she stopped to search her purse, she heard something that made the hair on her neck stand on end. Though her walking had ceased, the echoing footsteps had not. She turned around, only to be confronted by a thin, wiry man in a ski mask waving a gun in her face. "Give me your purse….NOW!" he spat. 

"Please, sir," the elderly woman pleaded, "I am but an old lady trying to reach the bank before it closes. I haven't much money on me nor do I have much to offer." 

"Does it look like I care?!" the man yelled angrily, "Just give me the fucking purse!" 

"Please, sir, I just…AUGH!" the elderly woman cried out as she was pistol-whipped by the man and sent to the ground, her purse falling from her hands along the way. The man grinned viciously and picked it up. 

"Thanks," he snickered and quickly turned to run, only to bump into two other men who had suddenly appeared in the alleyway. One of them was dressed in a metallic blue body suit with realistic-looking flames across the front. The other was wearing a body suit that was similar, only it was dark purple and had what looked like the head of an insect printed on the front in red. Both wore masks that matched their outfits over their eyes. 

"Not so fast," the guy in blue said, "You know, it's just not nice to steal, or pistol-whip an old lady for that matter." 

"We suggest you give the woman back her purse," the guy in purple added. 

"Oh, yeah?" the crook replied, "And just who do you guys think you are to tell me what to do?" 

"New around Tulsa, huh?" the guy in blue smirked, "Please allow us to introduce ourselves. I am the Frozen Flame!" Suddenly the crook found his legs encased in ice. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move them. 

"And I am the Ant-tastic Man!" the guy in purple exclaimed, shooting formic acid at the crook's arm, burning him and causing him to drop the purse. 

"And I am the Levitator!" a booming voice called out. The crook looked up to see a third guy floating above him wearing a green body suit with a streak of yellow lightening across the front. "Together, we make up the AT A-TEAM!" 

"The AT A-Team?" the crook's eyes widened for a moment, but quickly narrowed in amusement, "Yeah, I've read about you guys…trying to be heroes, all tough and what not," He stared up at the Levitator and sneered. "Look more like Peter Pan to me." 

"Hey, shut up!" the Levitator snapped and suddenly the purse started attacking the crook, pelting him everywhere and from all sides. 

"Is that seriously the best you can do?" the crook laughed, "Beat me with an old lady's purse? Ha! I was wrong. You aren't Peter Pan. You're freakin' Peter PANSY!" 

"Oh, that does it!" the Levitator soared down like a shot, grabbing the man's hair and pulling his head back until it felt like his spine was going to snap. "Got any more funny remarks to say, wise guy?" 

"Whoa, Levy…calm down," the Frozen Flame said as he and the Ant-tastic Man were helping the elderly woman up, "Let's just turn him in to the proper authorities and they'll deal with him, okay?" 

The Levitator looked up at the Frozen Flame, then back down at the crook with disgust before letting go of the crook's hair. "Fine," the Levitator snorted, "but if I hear any more lip from this guy, I swear…" 

A little while later, the crook was sitting in the back of a police car and the elderly woman was being rushed in an ambulance to the hospital for head injuries. After the usual talk with the police, the guys were thanked as they always were and then sent on their way. The guys made their way back to the AT-mobile and got in, buckling up and feeling a bit less than satisfied with how the capture had gone. 

"Jarrod, you've GOT to learn how to control that temper of yours," Mark told him, putting the vehicle in gear and setting off towards the secret hideout. 

"Well, I am sick of people making fun of me!" Jarrod pouted, "If only I had thought to make my costume any other color but green." 

"Oh, but that color looks so good on you," John said, taking off his purple mask, "Besides, you know how those criminals are. They're always trying to get the good guy's goat." 

"Speaking of goat, I wonder what Kara's making for supper tonight," Mark brought up the monitor and suddenly Kara's face appeared on the screen. "Hey, Kara! Just got done busting another bad guy and we're famished! What's on the menu tonight?" 

"Humph, why am I always the one who has to do the cooking?" Kara scowled, "Anyway, how did it all go?" 

"Jedhead lost his temper again, but I think it freaked the crook out a bit," John smiled. 

Kara, however, frowned, "Jarrod, you've got to…" 

"Yeah, I know! I've got to learn to control my temper!" Jarrod interrupted, "Just tell us what's for dinner already!" 

"Fried chicken," Kara replied solemnly, "It'll be waiting for you when you get here." The screen went blank and Jarrod groaned, sitting back in his seat. 

"Fried chicken…I am so TIRED of fried chicken!" Jarrod sighed, looking out the window at the setting sun. 

"Be thankful she cooks for us at all," Mark said as he turned into the driveway that led to the back of the hideout and down into an underground garage. 

That night, at dinner, the guys, along with Kara and their friend Steven, sat around the table, neither saying much. The guys were too downtrodden to really eat and were just picking at their food. Kara just kept looking back and forth between the three of them and wasn't paying attention to her food at all. Steven was the only one wolfing down his food. "Man, this is great stuff, Kara!" he commented between bites, "Has anyone told you lately that you could be a chef?" 

"Yeah, if she ever made anything besides chicken," Jarrod muttered. 

"Excuse me," Kara snapped, "but not once have I ever seen YOU fixing dinner or even offering to!" 

"Guys, please!" Mark said, "We don't need this fighting, okay? Jarrod, Kara was very generous to make us dinner, as she is always generous with everything she does for us. Maybe you should take a page from Steven's book and learn how to appreciate what you have. After all, you may not always have it." 

"I DON'T NEED A FUCKING LECTURE, YOU KNOW!" Jarrod yelled. Suddenly, the plates and bowls started trembling violently. Kara's eyes grew wide. 

"DUCK UNDER THE TABLE!" she cried, pulling John, who was beside her, down under the table. Mark and Steven quickly joined them. Soon, the sounds of exploding dinnerware and food hitting the walls filled the air. Only when it was quiet again did any of them come back up from underneath the table. Jarrod just stood there, covered with bits of food but still seething. He turned and went up the stairs to go change. Kara shook her head. "I worry about that boy, you know." 

Mark just sighed. He agreed with what Kara had said, but deep down he couldn't truly blame Jarrod for his temper. So often, he too wanted to just let loose and take out his frustration with the world. It had been a year since they started the AT A-Team and already it had started to become mundane and they had once again, as they had as the band Admiral Twin, become unappreciated by the masses. Day after day, they saved lives and prevented crimes from happening, but now it had become routine. People expected it and if the AT A-Team ever failed to live up to expectations, they were attacked from all sides, from comments on the streets to headlines in the papers. They had become more negative than positive lately. Criminals had always taken delight in mocking them, but now that others were doing it as well, it often didn't seem worth the effort anymore.  
Still, the guys trudged on, though it all was obviously starting to affect them. They were even beginning to distance themselves from each other. Kara was almost always off somewhere working on her inventions. Jarrod kept himself emerged in books most of the time. John, when he wasn't moving furniture around, enjoyed recording with a video camera and editing the footage. He himself had submitted most of the videos used on the news about the AT A-Team. Steven had a wife and child to keep him occupied, but Mark had no one so he could often be seen taking long walks around the city. 

It was during one of those longs walks that Mark stumbled across something so horrible that it took all his might not to cry out to the heavens above. "Ow, my toe!" he whimpered, limping as he turned a corner and came across an all-too-familiar scene. A woman was struggling with a man over a brown satchel. "Oh, my gawd!" Mark exclaimed, "I must do something!" He spotted a telephone booth just a few feet away. "Perfect!" 

"….yeah, I remembered to wear clean underwear. Yes, I love you too, mom. Bye." Mark hung up the phone and looked out to see the woman still struggling with the man over the brown satchel. "Oh, yeah…." He quickly changed into his costume and ran out to help the poor woman. In the distance, a dark shadow lingered before slowly fading into the night….

Once again, Admiral Twin was playing at The Stadium to a crowd of drunken jocks and loose women looking for a good time. Mark looked over the scene, noticing something was out of place. A short man with wild white hair wearing a matching trench coat was sitting at the bar, just watching the band. He was definitely not someone you'd expect to be hanging out in a sports bar. Mark shrugged it off though and continued playing. The strange little man didn't cross his mind again until after the show when he approached Mark, grasping his hand firmly and shaking it. 

"Quite an enjoyable show," the strange little man said in an equally strange and almost snake-like voice, "I do not get out often, being so busy in the laboratory where I work. It was a nice change to come here and listen to such a fine band play. You, in particular, caught my eye…" Suddenly, Mark felt a stinging sensation in his hand and he quickly pulled it from him. The man just grinned and walked away. Mark watched him leave and then joined the other two, who were still packing up. 

"Hey, what did that guy want with you?" John asked. 

"I think he was trying to pick me up or something," Mark said, wrinkling his nose. 

"Ah, an admirer," Jarrod chuckled, "Maybe you should look him up sometime." 

"Ugh, no thanks," Mark went to put away his bass, wondering what the deal with the guy was, but in the end decided he was just some creepy old guy who was into men. Still, his hand was stinging pretty badly, along with his head. 'I just had too much to drink,' he thought to himself as he helped load stuff into the van. 

As Steven drove, Kara and the guys sat in the back, talking about the show and other things going on in their lives. Mark, however, wasn't paying much attention. He held his head as it throbbed in pain, getting increasingly worse by the minute. "Uh, Mark, are you okay?" John asked him. 

"Yeah, you look a bit pale and sweaty," Kara commented, "Are you running a fever?" She went to feel his forehead, but Mark smacked her hand away, not wanting her to touch his throbbing head. Suddenly, the pain became so intense that it blinded him, causing him to fall to the floor of the van. 

"Steven, stop the van!" Jarrod shouted. 

"No, don't. I'll be fine," Mark muttered before being overtaken by yet another wave of intense pain. Then, as soon as it had come, it was all over. Mark stared up at the other three with a strange look in his eyes and an equally strange smile on his face. 

Again, John asked, "Are you okay?" 

"Yes, John. I'm fine...just fine," Mark turned and seized Steven around the neck while at the same time covering his eyes. 

"Mark, let go!" Steven gasped, "You're choking me and I can't see where I'm going!" Jarrod grabbed Mark and tried desperately to pull him off. Kara grabbed the wheel and tried to keep them on the road. John grabbed the edge of his seat until his knuckles turned white. 

"John, for God's sake! Help Jarrod!" Kara yelled. John obeyed and was easily able to pull Mark off Steven. Kara breathed a sigh of relief and sank down into the passenger seat. Jarrod and John both had Mark pinned down in the back. "Steven," Kara said, "We need to head to the hideout and figure out why Mark is acting so strange." Steven obliged and turned the vehicle around. 

Meanwhile, Mark was struggling to free himself from the other two's grasp. "It's so weird," John remarked, "It's like he's not acting on his own free will or something." 

"Really, John? You mean he really DIDN'T want us to crash the van and die horrible deaths?" Jarrod replied sarcastically. 

John shook his head. "No, I really don't think so. He doesn't seem the type..." 

"Shut up, John! I was just kidding...AUGH!" Jarrod howled in pain as he held his burnt arm. "What the...?" He looked down to see Mark grinning viciously before suddenly tilting his head back and breathing fire directly on John. John screamed and let go of Mark, who immediately got up and seized Steven around the neck again. Again, Kara had to grab the steering wheel to make sure they stayed on the road. Again, Jarrod tried desperately to pull Mark off. However, John was too busy putting himself out to be much help. 

"Steven, hold on. We're almost there!" Kara told him as she made the turn into the long driveway leading to the hideout. Unfortunately, by this time, Mark had managed to choke Steven to the point of unconsciousness. He pushed Steven out of the driver's seat. "Mark, what are you doing?!" Kara exclaimed, horrified. Mark said nothing as he reached over and gave the steering wheel a swift jerk, causing them to turn off the driveway and head straight towards the hideout itself. Kara shrieked and shoved Mark out of the way, only to find that he had frozen the steering wheel to where it wouldn't budge. "Oh, my gawd!" Kara cried out as the building loomed closer and closer, "We're going to crash!" 


End file.
